


Things That Go Bump in the Night

by Celandine



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Bondage, Community: hp_backtosmut, Dom/sub, M/M, Rimming, Smut, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-04
Updated: 2006-10-04
Packaged: 2017-10-12 16:09:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/126689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celandine/pseuds/Celandine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lupin forces Snape to overcome a certain fear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things That Go Bump in the Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [severity_softly](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=severity_softly).



"What is it you fear from me, Severus?" Remus asked the question in a quiet voice as Snape was setting down the goblet of Wolfsbane Potion. He placed it always on the table or desk, never handed it directly to Remus, as if he believed that the slightest brush against a werewolf's skin might contaminate him. Snape never looked directly at Remus when he was bringing the potion, either, although he was quite capable of a stony glare or sneer at other moments, whether while passing in a corridor, arguing during a staff meeting, or simply sitting at the high table for breakfast.

"Fear? I am not afraid of you." Snape frowned, still not meeting Remus's eyes.

"I wondered if perhaps you worried that the potion might not work properly. I assure you it has always been excellent, and I'm quite grateful to you for making it."

A little taunting, a little flattery – anything that might push Snape off balance and provoke him to speak honestly. Because Snape _was_ afraid of something, Remus was certain of that. The acrid scent of fear sweat was unmistakable; another, if relatively minor, drawback to Remus's condition was that sensitivity to smell. It would be far more comfortable if he could be more easily deceived. Remus moved casually, placing himself between Snape and the door.

"And the full moon isn't until tomorrow, so you're quite safe," he added lightly, though of course Snape was well aware of the lunar cycle, providing fresh-brewed Wolfsbane Potion as he did each month. Sometimes Remus wondered how Minerva had persuaded Snape to agree to do so. Though allies during the war, the two men had never gotten on well: there were too many animosities between them, dating back to their own school days. Remus's several attempts at apology had never seemed to affect Snape's attitude, and eventually he had ceased to make them.

"I'm quite aware of _that_ ," Snape sneered, "and the potion works adequately." His eyes flickered from Remus to the door. "If you don't mind, Lupin, I must be on my way. _Some_ of us have students to supervise."

Taunt for taunt. Remus would have rather liked to be Head of Gryffindor, but that was impossible, and he had always known so. He was surprised at how much it hurt that Snape reminded him.

"Not until you tell me what you are afraid of, each month when you come here," he insisted, and cast a locking charm on the door. One of his specialties, that. He had learned to perform such spells even in the final hours before his transformation. The wolf, thankfully, could not perform magic, and in the years when Remus had been living half in hiding in the Muggle world, before the invention of the potion that staved off the lunacy of lycanthropy, it had been the only way he could hope to keep himself or others safe.

Snape's mouth set in a line even thinner than usual. "I told you, I am not afraid."

"Don't lie to me!" Remus stared at him. "You reek of it. Why?"

He was not proficient at Legilimency, though Albus Dumbledore had taught him some of the basic techniques. Snape, by contrast, was perhaps the most skilled Occlumens in Britain, so Remus did not expect to be able to learn anything of Snape's thoughts. He reached out to touch Snape's hand, hoping again to surprise him into the truth.

"Don't!" Snape pulled away, a jerky, startled movement, and for an instant his mental barriers wavered and gave Remus a fleeting glimpse into Snape’s mind.

"You're afraid... I will touch you?" said Remus slowly.

An ugly flush stained Snape's cheeks. "Yes." He bit off the word. "May I leave now?"

"Not yet." Not now that he knew what it was Severus feared. But the only way to convince him that there his apprehension was unwarranted was to expose his own mind to the other man in turn. "Look at me." He braced himself as Snape did so, and opened his thoughts, many of which regarded things that he normally tried to suppress as unattainable.

The next thing he knew, Snape had slammed him back against the wood of the door. "How long, Lupin?"

"Since..." He had to think about it. "Since our O.W.L. year. But I was prefect that year... and then the next year Sirius tricked you, and I nearly killed you, and... there was never a time I could have said anything. I didn't know if you would feel the same." He held still under Snape's hands. "And you?"

Snape simply shook his head, which Remus took to mean that he had harbored similar feelings for roughly the same length of time. His breath had quickened, and Remus could see his pulse beating in a vein at his temple, under the lank hair. When Snape's grip relaxed a fraction, Remus seized the opportunity. He whirled the two of them around, pushing Snape up against the wall and pressing his knee between Snape's legs. Through the bulky fabric of Snape's robes he felt what Snape had been so desperate to hide.

"You want this," Remus growled in Snape's ear, scarcely waiting for the nod before he slid his tongue between Snape's lips and began a series of devouring kisses. Snape tasted of whisky and herbs. After a moment of stunned stillness he kissed back, just as hard. Their teeth clicked together as their tongues wrestled for dominance.

With one hand, Remus held Snape's shoulder to the wall – though Snape was scarcely resistant – and with the other, started to undo the row of frustratingly tiny buttons that held Snape's robes together, even as they continued to nip and suck at each other's mouths.

"Wait." Snape broke off, his face tensing as he concentrated, and suddenly all the buttons came undone at once. Remus slid his hand under the flapping cloth of the placket and grinned.

"Tell me you never wear anything under these? Or is this in honor of a visit to my rooms? Not that it matters." He shoved the robes off Snape's shoulders; they made a black puddle on the floor where they fell around his feet. Snape was not just not wearing a shirt, to Remus’s pleased surprise. He was completely bare save for his shoes. Remus ran his hands along Snape's sides and down his thighs as he knelt to unlace those and toss them aside. Cooperatively, Snape raised one foot and then the other as Remus worked, and his hand rested on Remus's head as if unwilling to lose that closer contact.

"You're still dressed," Snape's voice was hoarsely accusing as Remus rose again and fitted his hips against the other man's, beginning to rock them together.

So he was. He was reluctant to expose his scarred body, but Snape's insistent fingers began to work at the buttons first of robe, then of shirt and trousers.

"Don't stare," Remus requested as Snape undressed him. Snape had a number of scars himself, Remus had noticed, but nothing like the network of white and red that formed an irregular network across his own skin.

"Where did they all come from?" Snape touched one of the puckered scars curiously.

"Mostly from myself." He heard the grimness in his voice.

"I had not realized that lycanthropy caused one to be self-destructive in such a manner." The words were clinical but the tone surprisingly sympathetic. Snape leaned down and licked along the jagged patterns, tracing rough circles until his tongue swiped across one of Remus's nipples.

Remus gasped. He had no idea how long it had been since Snape had been with someone, but it had been far too long since Remus had... and at this time of the month, his reactions were heightened. He grabbed Snape and pulled him up, growling, "My bed. Now."

Snape made a noise as if he were going to protest – did the idea of having sex in Remus's bedroom, as opposed to on the floor of his sitting room, seem too much like something deliberately chosen and not a momentary loss of restraint? – but Remus had seen that glimpse of his wishes and guessed that Snape would obey the order when he repeated, "Now, Severus."

When they had reached the other room, Remus eyed his bed thoughtfully before turning to Snape.

"I'm going to give you the fucking of your dreams," he promised, and watched as Snape's face reddened, though the other man made no objection whatsoever. "All you have to do is tell me what you want, or if you prefer, let me see it in your thoughts. _Anything._ " He meant it. Remus had never hesitated to accede to any sexual quirk his lover might desire; he had too few chances to be particular.

His throat working, Snape said in a strangled voice, "All right." He met Remus's gaze and a kaleidoscope of images came whirling into Remus's mind, far too many for Remus to make sense of, but gradually they settled down.

Remus nearly let out a yelp of astonishment at one of them; he would never have suspected Snape of harboring that fantasy. With an effort he kept quiet, though, cataloguing several possibilities before Snape's barriers slammed down again.

"Is that enough?" asked Snape, his tone almost surly. Remus suspected he was steeling himself to have Remus be offended or even disgusted.

"Oh, yes." Remus gave a tight smile. His wand was still in the other room, and he summoned it wordlessly. "Get on the bed." As soon as Snape had done so, he snapped, " _Incarcerous._ "

Cords shot out from nowhere, wrapping themselves around Snape's wrists and ankles and securing him to the bedposts, his belly to the mattress.

Remus walked around to the head of the bed and leaned to whisper in Snape's ear, "If there is anything you find you dislike after all," he wasn't sure if Snape really had ever experienced what he seemed to desire, "just say 'gnome' and I will stop entirely. Do you understand?"

"I understand." Snape pulled at the ropes, not trying to get free, just testing them. Perhaps he _had_ participated in such play before.

"Good." Remus had decided he would not whip Snape, even though it was one of the possibilities he had seen through the Legilimency; neither giving nor receiving pain was something that Remus enjoyed. He experienced it every month when he transformed, and for him it was decidedly not sexually arousing. In any case the only remotely suitable implement Remus possessed was a belt, and he did not have the experience to achieve fine control with that. Perhaps another time, if there _was_ another time, and if Snape specifically requested it.

A bit of a spanking, however – that was more humiliation than pain, and Remus was quite willing to begin by delivering that. He brushed lightly over Snape's arse and saw his skin quiver. "I'll start with ten. Count." He drew back his hand and let it fall.

"One. Two. Three..." Snape counted as steadily as Remus's blows fell, his buttocks clenching ever so slightly in reaction at each one. "...Ten." His arse was pink by the time Remus stopped, but he gave little indication of either enjoyment or distaste.

Perhaps the predictability was a problem. Remus considered, idly drawing his fingertips along Snape's back, then gave him another, unheralded, smack.

"Eleven." The velvet voice had a startled tone this time.

Ah. Much better. Snape had bucked against the mattress as well. Remus's own prick was standing at rigid attention now; the sight of Severus Snape willingly spread out before him made him want to fuck that tight brown hole _hard_. He reached between Snape's legs and grazed the back of his balls with one hand, at the same time spanking him with the other.

"Twelve! Oh, Merlin."

By the time Remus had reached twenty-five irregularly administered smacks, Snape was writhing as much as the bonds permitted him, trying to push back against Remus's finger each time it brushed across his hole. Remus stood up to pad around the bed and fetch the lubricant he kept in a drawer, and Snape turned his head to watch, a look of relieved anticipation crossing his face as it became clear what Remus was doing.

The angle was poor with Snape spread-eagled as he was, so Remus loosened the bonds with a gesture from his wand. "On your knees." Snape scrambled to obey, pulling pillows under his chest and stomach and bracing himself on his elbows, his knees spread wide. He made a beautiful sight.

Remus paused as he was about to open the bottle, and reconsidered. Casting a hasty charm, he bent his head down and drew his tongue along the crease between one thigh and buttock, then the other. Snape trembled as he began to lap across the tender skin behind his balls, and Remus allowed himself a smug smile. He curled his tongue to a stiff point and plunged it into Snape's arse, rewarded by a groan that sounded as if it came all the way up from Snape's very toes.

"Fuck, Lupin..."

It sounded odd to hear his surname on Snape's lips under these circumstances, but now was not exactly the time to make an issue of the point. Remus wriggled his tongue, licking at the heated flesh that enveloped it; even with a cleaning charm a musky taste remained, but that had never bothered Remus. Perhaps that was the wolfish influence; he had never known. Snape's arsehole was tight, loosening only slightly as Remus withdrew, mouthing the wrinkled exterior before slipping in again, enjoying the contrast of the almost-silky texture inside. Opening his mouth wide, he moved his tongue, wishing that he had the length of the wolf’s tongue so that he could reach Snape's prostate with it and massage the little bulge with his tongue. Even as it was Snape seemed to be reveling in the sensation, quivering and making soft keening noises as Remus licked at him.

He didn't want to let Snape come yet, though, so regretfully he pulled out and reached for the lubricant again, slopping some over his fingers and spreading it on his cock. Snape was waiting, panting, as Remus thrust into him, balls-deep on the first push. Sweet Circe, it felt good. He grabbed Snape's hips and fucked him, fast and hard, thrilling with the sensation of _tight_ and _slick_ and _hot_ , it had been far too long since he'd had anything other than his own hand around his prick, he couldn't hold back, and he howled as the orgasm ripped through him.

Pearly fluid oozed from Snape's arse as he withdrew. Snape's head was down, his hands gripping the bunched-up duvet. A word from Remus and the ropes vanished. Snape lifted his head to glare at him.

"Don't worry, Severus. I'm not finished with you yet." Remus gave a smile that he knew evoked the wolf. "Turn over."

Snape winced a little as he rolled, but made no complaint. His prick was plum-colored, the head of it slick and shiny where the foreskin had slid back. He made no move to touch himself, only waited, still with that angry challenging stare, for Remus to do what he would.

Rising to his knees, Remus took his now-softer cock in his hand. "You know what I'm going to do, don't you." It wasn't really a question, though he paused long enough to allow Snape to react if he had changed his mind. "Wank yourself, Severus." Then he began to piss on him, slowly, marking the insides of Snape's thighs with the golden stream before aiming at his balls and straining prick. It felt almost as good as coming had, to release the pressure of his bladder, watching Snape's face contort and hearing him wail. Snape seized his own prick and fisted it desperately, his eyes fixed on Remus's and on the flow of piss arcing down, coming with a grunt as the last drops fell. This was what had so surprised Remus to see in Snape's fantasy – who would have expected the severe and methodical Potions Master to want to wallow in filth? Not that Remus minded playing along, though it would take a strong _Scourgify_ to get his bed clean enough to sleep on.

He stretched out beside Snape and propped himself up on one elbow. Snape turned, the line of his throat vulnerable in the lamplight. Remus realized he was thinking like the wolf, and shook his head to clear his mind.

"I didn't expect... thank you," said Snape, his tone grudging but his sincerity evident.

"My pleasure." The grin that stretched Remus's lips was unfeigned. "Or couldn't you tell?"

Snape touched his arse gingerly. "I could tell, all right. I'll be able to tell all day tomorrow at the very least."

"Would you like me to take care of that?" Healing spells were not Remus's strong suit, but he could manage this.

"No. I'd rather keep... that is, it's not that bad." Snape glanced around the room. "I hope now you'll permit me to leave?"

"Only if you'll promise to return. Not tomorrow," Remus clarified. "I wouldn't want you here when I'm transformed. But after that. I noticed," he ignored the slight heat that burned his cheeks, "I noticed that there were quite a few other ideas you've entertained about me that perhaps we should explore together."

"Ah." Snape looked embarrassed. "I, ah... if you want to."

"I want to," Remus growled, and pulled Snape in for another wanton kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for hp_backtosmut, for severity_softly, who said, "Please, be as DIRTY as you dare." I did my best.


End file.
